“He is a war hound, bred for battle, bred to kill,” Bhric argued.
Tavia fought back the laughter that wished to erupt, seeing what fun the pair were having together. “Maybe one time, but no more, perhaps he never was. Perhaps Uta freed him.”
Harald approached them shaking his head. “I do not know what it is, my lord. It is as if a spell has been cast on the hound. He wants nothing more than to be with Uta.”
“Whatever it is do not let it spread to the other hounds,” Bhric ordered.
“Aye, my lord. Bones no longer resides with the other hounds,” Harald said.
“Where does he reside?” Bhric asked.
Harald cringed fearful to speak.
“Never mind I do not want to know,” Bhric said, shaking his head.
Harald looked relieved and hurried off, Uta and Bones trailing after him, laughing and barking in play.
They barely took a few steps when Wilona approached them.
“My lady,” Wilona said with a respectful nod. “My sister is most grateful that you saved her son’s leg. She makes food now for him and Hertha and Hume in appreciation and she has begun stitching garments to gift your first born.”
“That is generous of her. Please tell her I am most grateful,” Tavia said, wondering what everyone would think when she failed to get with child as soon as everyone believed she would.
Bhric still wondered if a woman as petite as Tavia could carry and deliver a bairn safely. Or would she be like her mum and die in childbirth? The thought unexpectedly sent an ache to his heart. He would not want to lose her, yet he feared it could be her fate.
“I go to visit Lath. Again, thank you, my lady,” Wilona said and left them to continue walking.
They walked in silence both lost in thoughts until a Northman warrior approached them.
“An old couple seek rest and shelter here, the husband is not well,” the warrior said.
“How ill is the man?” Bhric asked.
“He can barely stand,” the warrior said.
“He needs help,” Tavia said. “We must offer them shelter and food so he may heal.”
“Sickness can spread if not careful,” Bhric warned.
“They can be isolated in a cottage,” Tavia said.
“They can shelter with the animals,” Bhric ordered.
Tavia gasped. “It is cold. The man needs heat. You cannot be so cruel.”
“I know not what ails him and I will not have him spread anything to my people,” Bhric said and shook his head wondering why he was explaining himself to his wife.
“I can speak with him and see if he poses any risk to the clan,” Tavia said.
“You will do no such thing,” Bhric said.
Tavia had no intentions of giving up. “At least give the couple a chance to speak with you and judge for yourself if they should stay or go.”
“And I suppose you wish to be with me when I do this,” Bhric said, having every intention of taking her with him and seeing what she thought of the couple.
A smile lit her face. “I would love to accompany you, my lord. Thank you for including me.”
His wife had a quicker mind than he first thought. He had focused only on her limp when meeting her, nothing else, though her lies had not set well with him. But why had she lied? Did he look for excuses to dismiss them? How could trust be born of lies?